Running Interference
by SewerUrchin
Summary: What if DxB were an established couple during A League of Their Own? This is my twist!
1. Chapter 1: Mommy Made Fondue!

**Author's note:** Hi, again! I want to thank everyone so much for their wonderful feedback on my previous fic (The Dreaded Love Triangle); it's still a work in progress, but I promise I will update as soon as I can.

**Description:** This fic has kind of an odd premise. It's DanielxBetty of course, but in an Alternate Universe. It's set during the Meade/Slater dinner disaster in the episode "A League of Their Own," except Daniel and Betty are attending the dinner as an established couple.

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Ugly Betty or any of the ****characters…not even Daniel. Sigh.**

**Chapter one: "Mommy Made Fondue!"**

Daniel Meade and Betty Suarez stood hand-in-hand in front of the Meade Mansion, staring blankly at the lion-head doorknocker. "Its eyes follow us when we move," Betty whispered. She and Daniel both leaned a little to the left, as usual, both perfectly in synch with one another. Sure enough, the lion's eyes seemed to follow. "Creepy," Betty breathed.

"Okay, this is the part of the horror movie where the entire audience is screaming 'Do NOT go in there," Daniel noted. "In addition to telling Dad I lost not only the Atlantic Attire account but _52 freakin' percent_ of our advertisers, I also have Stepmonster to contend with."

"Then I'll be right beside you with a chair and a whip, fending her off," Betty said softy, calmly. Betty had snapped out of her own nerves-induced paralysis when she'd heard the strain in her Daniel's voice. Daniel looked down at her tenderly—she barely came up to his chin, but he had no doubt she'd be down in the floor wrestling Bradford and Wili if she thought that'd save him from his father's belittling and Wili's barbs. Their eyes met, and they conversed in their own private world.

"You're not taking the fall for me, Daniel," Alexis said, walking up behind them and startling them both out of their reverie.

"Jesus, Alex, you scared us! For a second, I thought Wilhelmina had learned how to teleport as part of her pact with Satan. And yes, I am," Daniel said, fixing his bro/sis with a firm eye. If there was one thing Daniel had picked up from Bradford, (the only thing, he'd convinced himself firmly) it was how to give that cold, stern blue eye. The only person it failed to intimidate was Betty.

Alexis shivered. "He'll crucify you and you know it. You lost those accounts because you were defending _me_, but he won't see it that way. Let me handle this, Daniel, or, as usual, you'll be the lamb for the slaughter."

"That's not going to happen to either of you," Betty declared in a final way, "if I have to put Bradford Meade in a headlock and force him to listen to reason."

The two Meade siblings looked at her fondly. "C'mon, let's go inside," Daniel grudgingly said, snuggling Betty. He savored the warmth of the moment because he knew as soon as they were in Bradford and Wili's presence, the evening was going to be frigid from here on out. The door opened abruptly and there Wilhelmina stood in all her beautiful, snow-white, icy glory. _Oh, Christ, she's wearing an apron_, everyone collectively thought.

"I hope you're hungry," she said with her white, perfect smile (_how could such a beautiful smile be so fake_, Daniel wondered grimly), "because Mommy made fondue!"

Daniel threw up a little in his mouth.

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	2. Chapter 2: We Are Family

**Hi again everyone. I'm sincerely sorry for the update delay...the muse deserted me for a while. I hope you enjoy...Claire and Yoga deserve a happy ending.**

Chapter 2: Make Like Sister Sledge—"We Are Family"

The dinner itself was fairly un-disastrous, Betty noted with surprise. For her part, she'd kept her trap shut, alternately holding hands with or kicking Daniel under the table every time she sensed he was about to tear into Wilhelmina. Although that would have been immensely satisfying, she knew it would have put the final nail in the coffin of Bradford's and Daniel's stilted civility to each other.

Alexis, filled with a bemused, wary cheerfulness at her father's miraculous acceptance of her new set of fabulous boobs, was about as content as Betty to let Wili and Bradford yack on about new yachts and china patterns.

The family photo was an interesting experience, and provided Betty and Daniel the only semblance of relief they were to get that evening. As the Meades dutifully assumed the positions for the photo by the window, Wili proved once and for all that she never truly took a break from being Mode Creative Director. _She probably insisted on no anesthesia when she had her Brazilian butt lift, the better to screech out orders like the harpy she is_, Daniel thought darkly. He looked over at his family. _Like a line-up of convicts. Dad, Wili, Alexis, Mom…what the hell, Mom?! _He elbowed Betty and she elbowed back, thinking he was playing. "Look to your right," he hissed. She did so, and saw none other than Claire Meade, mother of Daniel and Alexis, soon-to-be ex-wife of Bradford, archenemy of Wili, owner of Mode, drunk, murderess, escaped con, and _God I missed her_, thought Daniel and Betty in unison. Claire, looking fabulous even on the lam, put her finger to her lips and smiled a gentle smile. She breathed against the glass and wrote in the condensation "Master Bedroom—Five Minutes."

Betty could feel Daniel relax against her at the sight of his mother. He kissed the top of her head and she could feel him grinning against her hair. She was grinning to, which made Wili give them both the stink-eye. "I would tell you all to 'Say Cheese' but two of you are already there," Wili said, gagging like she always did at the sight of genuine human emotion. With that Wili turned her back to the rest of them and waited for the flash to go off. Alexis snorted as Daniel made a hideous face behind Wili's back.

Afterwards, Daniel and Betty made the lame excuse of having left something in their coats, which were conveniently located in the master bedroom. They needn't have even bothered to think up an excuse, even a lame one, because everyone automatically assumed they were going up there to make out.

"Right," said Alexis. "Like you were 'making copies' half-naked in the janitors' closet yesterday at work."

Daniel flipped her off amiably and pulled Betty away by the arm, laughing. "Come on, Alexis," he said. "I've got a surprise for you." They left Bradford and Wili to hopelessly speculate.

They entered the master bedroom and locked the door behind them. They found Claire sitting on the branch of a tree outside the window. "For God's sake, Mom," Alexis hissed, "how did you get up here?"

"I climbed, of course. Honestly, dear, did you think I levitated?" She took Alexis's face in her hands. "I had a little help, of course." She turned to reveal Yoga, looking sullen and ill-at-ease, her usual demeanor. "I got a bad feeling about this, Fish," she grumbled. Claire knew by now that Yoga would do anything for her.

"Um, Mom, what's with the gun?" Daniel asked. He was only mildly surprised to see it in her possession, really.

"Well, sweetheart, please don't think too badly of me, but, well, Wilhelmina…" Claire began ruefully.

"She was gonna shoot the bitch," Yoga finished, as if she were simply stating that Claire had intended to have tea with Wili instead of kill her.

"Oh, is that all?" Daniel quipped and Betty elbowed him.

Claire shot Yoga a dirty look. "But I realized something, watching Wilhelmina practically give Bradford a lap dance in there at dinner…they deserve each other. That philandering son of a bitch made my life hell for over twenty years. I can maybe move past that, but I can't forgive what he's done to the two of you." She took both her children's hands in hers. "If Bradford hasn't figured out by now that Wilhelmina doesn't love him, he's a bigger moron than I thought. He deserves someone who'll treat him with all the respect he's shown all of us. And Wilhelmina Slater is just the woman for the job." She gave a sad little chuckle. "Yoga and I are leaving the country. We're going to Italy."

Betty expected Daniel and Alexis to raise hell at the notion, but Daniel only said, "You're free, Mom. You're finally free." He leaned over to look at Yoga. "Take care of her," he said gravely. "You bet your rich, cute, white ass," she responded with a quiet dignity. Alexis, too choked up to speak, embraced Claire. Finally finding her voice, she said, "I guess I'll go make sure the Uber-Bitch isn't listening in. Call us as soon as you arrive. I love you," she said, and fled before she completely lost it.

"Never one for goodbyes, that boy…I mean, girl," Claire said, gazing fondly after her oldest. "And this isn't goodbye; it will never be goodbye for us. Just a new beginning. And besides, you have a private jet. You can see us in Italy any time."

Claire gazed at Daniel and Betty. She wrapped them both in a tight hug. "The only decent thing Bradford's done in his Godforsaken life is hire you as Daniel's assistant," she told Betty.

"That, I have to agree with," Daniel replied, giving her one of those besotted looks that made her feel like the center of the universe; and in a way she was…of his universe.

"Take care of each other," Claire said beginning to climb down. "Something tells me that soon you'll need each other more than ever."

With that, she and Yoga were gone.

Betty and Daniel were once again alone. Betty, knowing Daniel drew more strength and calm from physical contact than anyone she knew, entwined her arm with his, rested her head on his shoulder, and waited for him to speak, all infinite patience and understanding.

"You know," he began. "She looked happier with Yoga than she's ever looked with Dad." They both began a weird combination of crying and laughter that was uniquely appropriate to the situation.

"Come on," Betty said, "I suppose we can't leave Alexis to face the Gruesome Twosome alone down there."

With that, they went downstairs. And for a while, everything was as kosher as possible, all things considered.

Nonetheless, everyone was subconsciously battening down their respective hatches for when the inevitable shit storm broke loose.

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	3. Chapter 3: Duck and Cover

**Well, here's Chapter 3! Thanks to all my lovely reviewers. **

Chapter 3: Duck and Cover

And break loose it did, in a spectacular fashion. When they all retired to the living room for after-dinner champagne, of course everyone promptly got smashed. Inhibitions were shot to hell, and if there was one thing the Meades relied upon to even be able to breathe the same air as each other, it was their inhibitions.

Betty didn't worry too much about Daniel at first. When drunk, he was soft, pliable, and downright cuddly, if melancholy. His trademark dry yet biting sarcasm morphed into something that could easily be dismissed with a nervous laugh. But there was something different about tonight that gave her goose bumps and she kept a hand on his arm. It was for comfort and support, yes, but also restraint, if she were honest with herself.

Daniel also tended to own up to things when drunk—"Betty, I left the toilet seat up, the bathroom light on and the Mr. Coffee running," "Betty, I used your deodorant this morning," "Betty, I tried on one of your bras, the black one (burp) but I think I need more support," followed by him either giggling drunkenly or passing out.

Yes, Drunk!Daniel was Oversharing!Daniel, and he commenced to do so with Bradford. Betty hoped he would maybe pass out to spare him from the ass-whipping he was about to get from his father, because, as it turned out, he let it slip about losing the advertisers. Looking back on the incident later, Betty could've sworn the slipup was no accident and that Daniel was trying to pick a fight with his father, a fight that was long overdue if it could be conducted in a civil way.

It wasn't. Bradford dragged out all the old favorites: "You're such a screw-up," "You've had everything handed to you," blahdee-blah, blahdee-blah. It all seemed par for the course, mundane, even ordinary—then Bradford dragged Betty into it. Now, Bradford was normally polite enough to Betty, although distant. Betty knew he liked her well enough as Daniel's assistant, for her contributions to Mode and not for any sparkling personality trait of hers. She always got the distinct impression that her personal relationship with Daniel got a different internal reaction entirely from the old coot. To Bradford, Betty was not a proper match for Daniel, in appearance, socio-economic status, or otherwise. This time Bradford, being three sheets to the wind himself, said as much to Daniel.

Betty was unsure of how she even factored in to all of this, something along the lines of, "If you and your 'assistant' had been doing your jobs instead of screwing around in that freak show you call 'twu wuv', none of this would've happened, you're both to blame, yadda, yadda.'" And whatever Bradford said about her next she'd repressed totally; in fact, it was tidily locked away in the part of her brain where she kept things she just didn't want to deal with. At any rate, it resulted in Bradford getting knocked on his shriveled old ass.

Wili, delighted, just sat there, and Alexis, for all her boasting that she could still hit like a man, was nevertheless in a woman's body now—she had no hope of pulling Daniel, trashed and pissed, and ripped from weekly gym visits, off of anybody. That left Betty, and truth be told, she couldn't pull Daniel off Bradford either. But that really wasn't the plan.

Daniel, for his part, stood there over Bradford, who, to his credit, was still alive after insulting Betty. His father could (and had) called him every name in the proverbial book; he was used to it, and besides, he was warming up to the idea of going toe-to-toe with his father. The minute he heard Betty's name factor into Bradford's hoarse ranting, however, he knew was wouldn't be able to (and didn't want to) avoid hitting him. And then there she was at his shoulder, a tiny Latina with a wide, heartbreaking, smile, looking as outsized and outmatched as she did in the offices of Mode. But as Daniel had learned, appearances had exactly nothing to do with the unique essence that was his 'Betty'. Now he looked down into those eyes that had a calming effect on him that no one and nothing in the history of the universe could ever claim.

"Baby," she said sweetly, "Just let it go. So he doesn't understand us—he isn't the first and he won't be the last. And as much as I love your He-Man impression in my defense, it's best practiced on Becks and not actual family members."

Daniel's anger thawed in a way he never thought possible in a room that was practically a refrigerator with his dad and Wili's icy demeanors. He noted with amusement how she had to stand on her tiptoes just to rest her chin on his shoulder the way she was now doing. He knew full well that he was being played. She'd used this tactic on him before, when Becks was being obnoxious, Bianchi was being temperamental, and clients were all-around pissing him off. She just sashayed over, rested her little chin on his shoulder, and he was lost. Completely, irrevocably lost to her.

By this time, Alexis had fled to the bathroom and Bradford had managed to get vertical once again. He didn't seem the least bit cowed. In fact, he looked rather proud of his youngest son, which frankly gave Betty the creeps.

Bradford began to hobble back and forth. "Well, son, your newfound balls don't make up for the fact that you lost over half of Mode's advertisers…".

Betty rolled her eyes and sighed. It was time for Plan B.

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